


Oranges and Lemons (Make for a Narrow Scale)

by Arioch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Check-Ins, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, Figging, Lemon -wink wink nudge nudge-, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, The Citrus Scale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arioch/pseuds/Arioch
Summary: „Are you ready to be taken apart tonight? “ Hana asks casually during dinner.--Or: A crack fic featuring kink negotiation and a safeword based on fandom vocabulary.





	Oranges and Lemons (Make for a Narrow Scale)

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to [Sylvaine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/pseuds/sylvaine) for betaing this reckless porn after I started sprouting this random idea as a joke. And then I wrote it of course.  
> If you are not familiar with the Citrus Scale, it's a rating system for fanfic based on citrus fruits. Lemon, which stuck around even out of the context, is a relic of this scale. [Here's an overview I found on a sporking website.](http://ppc.wikia.com/wiki/Citrus_Scale)

„Are you ready to be taken apart tonight? “ Hana asks casually during dinner. She isn’t fooling anyone.

“You can try your best. Don’t be disappointed if you fail, you picked a hard goal to achieve, obviously.” Sombra winks at her and obnoxiously slurps her noodle soup. Hana throws a napkin right at her head. Making her competitive pride take over was all part of the fun.

“Are you angling for getting the paddling of a lifetime tonight?”

Sombra waves her left hand dismissively. “Please, you know I like bare-handed spanking more.”

“You’re certainly not getting that.” Hana manages to pull off a perfect cross between a stern glare and pout. “Seriously, what’s your status tonight?”

Sombra takes a minute to ponder this and chew her noodles. Mostly, though, to chew her food because she has already been thinking about the scene tonight the whole day. “Babe, you can go grapefruit on me. Let it all out, leave it on the field.”

Hana, who is a dork and a sucker for any game related puns, giggles helplessly until she is snorting soup out of her nose. Sombra marks this one down in her mental victory column.

###

It’s not that either of them insisted on the use of the scale, but it worked out surprisingly well. They had met on the internet first, of course. However, unlike what most people familiar with Hana’s online persona would initially assume, the encounter had not been during a game. Rather, it was a small, locked forum for Overwatch and related RPF where they had hit it off.

It was a joke at first. Hana was red-green colour-blind and sometimes had trouble keeping the concepts separate. As a result, the traffic light system didn’t really work for them. Hana herself had jokingly suggested implementing the citrus scale as a substitute and was surprised Sombra had actually taken the idea seriously.

###

 Sombra is kneeling in front of the bed and Hana puts her in position. Sombra’s favourite pair of purple padded cuffs comes on first then Hana secures them to the mooring points on the tension belt they buckle around their mattress for their sessions. Sombra makes a show of clenching her fists and trying to move her arms sideways. The restraints hold. She can’t escape on her own anymore. The thrill of submission begins creeping down her cybernetic spine.

Next, Hana gets out their spreader bar. With her hands cuffed and kneeling, spreading her legs is difficult. Sombra shuffles her weight from left to right carefully until Hana gets impatient.

“Let me help you,” she says and kicks her knees apart. Sombra loses her balance and face plants into the sheets. Hana, ever mercifully, doesn’t comment and instead focuses on chaining her ankles.

Ass up, torso pressed flat into the mattress as Hana pushes her down with her feet; just how Sombra likes it. Hana certainly intends to live up to her promises.

“Are you going to try and behave tonight?” Sombra nods and the pressure on her back gets firmer. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Y-Yes.” Sombra can feel her ass clench rhythmically. Her vagina throbs with resonance even though they had done a scene focused on huge insertion already this week. There is no way her vagina can take this kind of punishment again right now.

Hana taps her nails playfully down her spine and the sensation grounds Sombra back in the moment. “And you’re still up to go as far as ‘grapefruit’, right?”

“Definitely.” She gets smacked on the rear for her mistake.

“Tell me, what is my proper address now?”

God, the way Hana’s voice sounds right now. Sombra swallows. “Domme.”

“Good job, girlie.” She earns a patronizing pet on the head for her correct answer. “Now, close your eyes. I will give you a hint for your entertainment tonight.”

Sombra complies. She isn’t in the mood for an actual punishment. Even though the play they do on grapefruit nights is often painful, she welcomes it. If she disobeys, Hana would likely have to cancel the whole session after the punishment. The resulting guilt always weighs hard.

Hana moves something in front of her face. “Good, now sniff.” Sombra obeys. She leans slightly forward and takes a whiff. Whatever Hana is dangling in front of her nose smells sharp. She can’t be sure, so she takes a guess.

“It’s a lemon?”

Hana’s giggle bursts out right next to her and Sombra startles like a young colt. “Not bad, but also very wrong.”

The smell vanishes and lube starts dripping on her butthole a moment later. Sombra barely holds back a shudder at the unexpected cold. Hana doesn’t waste any time and starts stretching her. It’s only a drop in the ocean compared to how much Sombra’s ass aches for penetration. When she is comfortably taking two fingers, Hana pulls out with a twist, leaving her empty. She honest to god whines in frustration.

“Patience.” Hana tangles her hand through her hair and her implant and pulls once, forcefully. Sombra stills immediately. It’s painful now and yet only a fraction of the pain Hana could inflict without harming the fragile technology beneath.

Hana nudges something against her hole and presses it in. It’s not big, no more so than average butt plug. The material is curious, with some give, unlike their favoured toy materials. Then all of Sombra’s thoughts are superseded by the burn. She sucks in a surprised breath as the pieces click into place. Figging had been on their ‘to-try’ list for a while and they normally kept some raw ginger in their fridge to cook.

Hana responds by pressing the ginger root deeper into her. Sombra desperately tries to clamp her legs closed without any success. Hana doesn’t even chide her for it, just lazily knocks her knees to the side and lets the spreader bar do the rest of the work. Sombra doesn’t have any control. Her interests are of no concern to her Domme.

The burning inside gets worse. The sensation is not as intense as the battle wounds she receives but unlike them, it keeps building. Honestly, the only experience comparable is from her time with los muertos. They had escaped some glorified corporate cops by swimming in the ocean fully clothed and all caught sea lice as a result. Sombra does her best to breathe rhythmically, like she did back then. Hana whittled the root into a rough shape. It lacks the smooth curves she likes but the rough cut is an interesting texture. While this could be enjoyable without the pain, Sombra prefers this scenario. Her senses are still zeroed in on the pain but now she swims with the waves instead of being dragged down by the undertow. She rides the pain.

“You like your surprise?” Hana wiggles the ginger minutely. And because she’s cruel, she adds even more conversationally: “Does the experience of figging live up to your fantasies, girlie?”

“Y-Yes, Domme.” Sombra says as calmly as she can, which amounts to barely right now. The burning pain inside her is still intensifying. She hears the blood rushing through her ears and the involuntary whines she makes, unable to hold back. She writhes in her restraints, thankful that they hold her to release some of the building adrenaline.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Hana’s voice is deep coming next to her ear. She rests on Sombra’s back – half to make her struggles harder, half to comfort her with skin-to-skin contact. It works, to a point.

Sombra could have taken more, she insists later. Right now, however, not even the breathing or the skin can distract her for much longer. Her crotch is the only thing she can feel, heat running through her clit and the fire in her butthole. Her self-control is stretched to the limit.

Hana’s fingernails glide down her sides, caressing and teasing her to help take the edge off the pain. “Five more minutes until I take it out.”

 It sounds like eternity and the burn is still getting worse. There’s no way. Sombra loses control of her breathing and it quickens. Five more minutes is impossible. They have trained for this too, thankfully. She calls “Widowkill!” awkwardly and tries to curl in on herself to get away. It doesn’t work, of course.

Hana, to her credit, reacts just as fast. “Shit, let me get this out.” With a few tugs the ginger plug is removed. Hana tries to be as gentle as possible but at this point it’s a moot effort on her part. The root scrapes out of Sombra’s clenching hole and the burning flares up again in its wake. It brings tears into Sombra’s eyes as she bites the pillow to keep quiet.

Hana leaves her on the bed. She comes back slowly to her body and realizes she’s clammy with sweat. The burn hasn’t vanished but it is getting better. Sombra relaxes her grip on the pillow she drooled on. Well, fuck.

A slight touch to her rear startles her. Hana pets her soothingly and unlocks first the spreader bar, then the cuffs. She heaves Sombra the rest of the way onto the bed and spoons her from behind.

“I’m going to put some cream on it. Can you stay with me for that?” Sombra gives a shaky nod.

Hana clearly did her research. Whatever cream she bought is cool and numbs the pain pretty effectively. The burn becomes the dull throb that Sombra has come to expect from pain play. Hana opens a half liter bottle of water and feeds it to her in tiny sips. Her hand rubs circles on Sombra’s stomach. It feels nice. Hopefully Hana will play with her hair before she falls asleep this time.

“Why did you pick that safe word?” Hana has stopped rubbing and instead her fingers drum an unconscious rhythm on her stomach. Just enough to get Sombra’s attention but not enough to truly register in her blissed out state.

“I don’t know, it’s gross.”

“Gross?” Hana doesn’t sound convinced. “They both have nice asses tho, so they have that going for them.”

Sombra tries her best to organise her fuzzy thoughts. “I mean, fair. I notice the butts, but it’s not really that? They’re both hot, sure. I know them though. I talk to them. They’re my co-workers and it just feels weird to ship them, or whatever.”

Hana hums. “That makes a surprising amount of sense.” More fingers brush through her hair slowly. “If I pretend I don’t know the real reason is that your OTP is Widowtracer.”

“Hana!” Sombra growls, feeling her cheeks grow hot. Turning an alarming shade of red while trying to keep her reputation, even if it’s just to her girlfriend, intact, is not helping her cause. “That’s not true.”

Hana just laughs and has the audacity to actually win the ensuing pillow fight.


End file.
